


In the Shadows

by oodal (softkyun)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1443469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softkyun/pseuds/oodal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has never belonged in the shadows - yet and still, he finds himself there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> a quick drabble written for dewi. i hope you like it!!

He does not belong in the shadows, and he never has.

Yet, that's where he found himself, cast aside and left behind. What a silly thought, to think of he of all people as the one who is forgotten in the end, but yet and still, there he sat, hands clasped in front of him, dark eyes focused on his cellphone where it sits on his table. He sucked at keeping track of his phone, but he'd been waiting for something this time around. It's 6:47, and he was supposed to get a phone call from someone at 6 o'clock. It's no big deal, he told himself; he's forgotten to call people all of the time, and he's sure that it just slipped their mind, but such a thing settled heavily on the back of his mind.

Tetsuya never forgets to call. If he ends up in a situation where he can't call, he sends a brief, very blunt, stereotypical Tetsuya-text explaining why he didn't call, and saying that he'd dial up later. It's only been a little over forty-five minutes, so he can't justify being upset with Tetsuya for not reaching him yet.

"Shit." He groaned, pushing himself angrily up from the couch and kicking the leg of the coffee table. He swore again when his toe throbbed in response to the action; maybe he kicked it a little harder than he meant to, but he was a little frustrated. He clenched and un-clenched his fists, paced by the window, and absentmindedly picked up a basketball to toss back and forth between his hands, as his nails had started to bite too viciously into his palms. He exhaled, inhaled, tried to calm himself down, but he just couldn't.

He didn't usually get riled up like this- only when it's over Tetsuya. If it were someone else who had forgotten to call him, hell if he cared. He told himself that he felt the same way now: hell if he cared about his empty call list, hell if he cared about the distinct lack of his dumb, generic ringtone. At least, that was what his brain was saying; his heart told him to shut the hell up, get over his pride, send a text to Tetsuya, and stop acting like a wounded animal. 

With an exasperated noise, he threw the basketball against the wall of his house, and a picture frame clattered to the floor. It was a picture of the gang, and somehow the glass didn't crack as it toppled. He thought it might as well have, considering the way that they've all split apart. He didn't think he and Tetsuya would be the same; well, shit, that was a lie. He knew he'd lost sight of what he loved when he was in middle school, but he was better now. He went to practice. Tetsuya was proud of him; he'd seen that apathetic little mouth turn up just slightly in encouragement, seen the way those pale eyes glittered when he felt particularly excited. He thought he was breaking ground with Tetsuya again, learning how to be by his side again, learning how to do what he had done as easily as breathing so long ago.

His chin quivered as he thought about Tetsuya. When had he started... when had he become so attached to him? To his stupid rat's nest of a hair, to his bleary morning look, to his determined glances, to his never-fail attitude; to the way his biceps flexed when he moved to pass the ball, to that approving look when he was on the end of receiving that pass. Tetsuya was like his passes were; if you didn't catch them at the right moment, you'd miss them. He knew that people had always seen Tetsuya as the quiet one, the unemotional one, but he knew better. He knew that the bluenette just expressed emotion differently; sure, he didn't giggle like Kise, glare like Midorima... He was different. He had always been different. They all were, but Tetsuya had been the one that stood out the most. He dreamed of Tetsuya, in the game, out of the game.

He didn't know exactly when those dreams had turned to something else, to fantasies of a different kind. Dreams about playing again with Tetsuya had turned into dreams of playing with Tetsuya in an entirely different way; of looking down at him in bed, of watching that composed face flush, to watch pale eyes turn dark with lust. He hadn't thought about a guy like that, but once again, Tetsuya was the one who was the most different. He exhaled softly, running a hand through his hair. When had he started to imagine the texture of Tetsuya's hair beneath his hands, and not just when he ruffled it on the court - but how it felt to pull on it, to watch that small back bow beneath him, to see if Kuroko's stamina might survive in a different sort of situation. He wasn't sure when the fantasies had started, but now he couldn't get them to end.

He'd poured over the information for weeks. It had tortured him, confused him; he, so certain in himself, so faithful in who he was, had doubted everything at every damn turn trying to figure out what the hell was going on in his head. He hadn't been the first to realize it; the first person to come to the conclusion that he should've come to himself was the girl who had always figured out the puzzles first. She'd looked at him, after listening to his ranting - abnormal in itself, considering his penchant for privacy - and tilted her head gently to say, 

"You love Tetsu, too."

He'd denied it, of course. But once the seed had been planted, the idea grew, unbidden; he could do nothing but cave to it, acknowledge that yes - it was the truth, in its entirety. So he'd spent weeks gathering his courage, and when he'd asked Tetsuya, he couldn't go out. He didn't know if he'd planned to confess, if he'd wanted to see how those pink lips really felt beneath his, but either way, he'd just wanted to be with Tetsuya again.

He was learning that he didn't belong where he thought he did, anymore. Tetsuya's words were filled with someone else; no conversation passed without a mention of him, no subject was without him. He had never been one to be the center of attention on purpose; he just always had been, naturally. And now he found himself pushed away.

He was broken from his reverie by the sound of his phone vibrating. His head whipped around and he moved quickly to the phone, flipping it open to one text -

_"Sorry, I was with Kagami-kun. I will see you next week."_

He thought of Tetsuya, at the side of the tall, American redhead that had become his friend's teammate, he realized that somewhere along the lines, he had become a shadow, a light less bright, and it was only as tears dripped onto the glaring screen of his cell that he realized two shadows could not stand alone together.


End file.
